


Chained Soldier

by zeldadragondraco



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Chained Soldier, Complete, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hot Sex, Marvel Universe, Metal Arm Kink, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexy Times, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers to Lovers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, mcu - Freeform, rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2020-05-16 19:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19324762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadragondraco/pseuds/zeldadragondraco
Summary: Tentatively, you picked up the folder and read it. What you found was beyond anything you could have ever imagined.Bucky was the Winter Soldier.





	1. Chapter 1

As a child, you'd been told never to open the door underneath the stairs. You were forbidden to even think about it. At first, you'd only been curious. You'd seen your father go in late at night and not return for several hours. You would lie on the floor or put your ear on the door, trying to hear something, anything, but you never did. As you grew older, you figured it was just an office space. Somewhere your father turned to for some privacy. Your father was a private man, so why wouldn't he want a place where he could be alone? Away from his needy child? 

 

Your mother had been gone for years, and no one knew where she was or what she was up to. She just left. So she wasn’t around to tell you to leave your father be. She wasn’t around to tell you to mind your father's personal space and let it go. You really just wanted to know what went on down there. 

 

You attempted to break into the room once when you were 16 and your father had gone to bed early. You waited hours before making your attempt. But luck had never been your friend. Your father caught you several minutes after you tried to breach the door. That was the angriest you’d ever seen him. His mouth barely twitched when you asked about your mother all those times. But this—to him—was unacceptable. He didn’t strike you but you’re sure it was because he saw the raw fear in your eyes. He told you never to go through his things and simply dismissed you that night.

 

You didn’t try again.

 

About a year later you moved out. You kept little to no contact with your father and work and University kept you busy anyway so it was easy to forget. He didn’t bother calling and neither did you. You didn’t have anything to say so you didn’t think it was a good idea to go there for the holidays either. When your roommates asked about your family, it was less complicated to say you were an orphan rather than explain your estranged relationship with your father. People wouldn’t understand and it would make things unnecessarily awkward. It no longer bothered you your father was like this, and  _ that _ bothered you. Your father was always present in your life but he wasn’t  _ truly _ there. You’re bothered that it no longer bothered you and you wondered when that happened without your knowledge. 

 

It didn’t matter.

 

You didn’t have to visit him or the house. You had nothing there for you anymore so it was easy to forget about ever going back.

 

That is until your father passed away from a heart attack.

 

Being an only child, you inherited the house.

 

When you received the keys and a letter from the lawyer, you were on your way back to your childhood house. You spent days cleaning before you finally worked up the nerve to read the note from your father. The letter contained only six words.  _ In the Apple of My Eye. _ You were confused, to say the least, thinking your father had actually gone mad. At least until you found a book on his desk, titled _ Apple of My Eye _ . You opened the book, but saw nothing. You looked for a note or a message but still, there was nothing. Was your father telling you to read? Was it a joke? Was it meaningless? Confused, you decided to just forget about it and closed the book. Before it was completely closed, you felt something bulky under the cover. You gently peeled off the cover to reveal a key taped to the book. 

 

You felt your heart drop at the sight. You recognized the long, odd key. It was the same key you’d seen your father use nightly to enter the forbidden room or office — whatever it was.

 

You observed the small metal, the feelings of curiosity and frustration and of not knowing what went on in that room came flooding back. You turned it in your hands and noted the minuscule engraving of words on the side of the key. 

 

_ Forgive me. _

 

Confused and intrigued, you quickly found yourself standing in front of the door, debating with yourself. It had been your father's private space, his one unbothered place. Should you really ruin that? He told you on many occasions to stay away from it.

 

Curiosity got the best of you, and before you knew it, the door was open. You opened the door to stare into the darkness, the only thing visible was the first few stairs leading down into a basement.  _ What was so damn special about this basement? _

 

Ignoring the nervous butterflies in your belly, you felt around for a light and found a switch. Flipping it, you stared at the continuous stairs before making your way down cautiously. Dimly lit, the basement appeared empty, minus a strange machine in one corner, a bed that looked used, and an old plate of food on the floor. Was someone sleeping here? Living here? This is what your father often disappeared for? 

 

"What in the hell?" You voiced your thoughts. Your mind didn't have time to wrap around other theories because something else caught your attention.

 

A low growl erupted from some hidden corner in the room, causing you to gasp in the direction it came from. Suddenly a loud roar erupted, triggering a scream from you before the sound of metal scraping the ground exposed something that you never would have thought your father was capable of.

 

A man came running at you full force until his chains forced him to stop inches away from you. You were petrified. You couldn't move. You couldn't speak. You couldn't even think. The man looked angry, hungry, and young--he couldn't be but a few years older than you. _Why was he here?_ He was huffing, breathing heavily and low growls emanated from his puffed chest. He looked _dangerous_. The sound of another low growl combined with the sound of the chains’ movement broke your frozen state and you screamed again, running for the stairs. "No! Wait! _Please_." He said, sounding so desperate and lost. Fear still clutching your heart, you kept running, ready to close the door upstairs and never look back until he spoke again. " _Help me..._ " He sounded so broken, so weak.

 

Catching your breath, you stared at the door for what felt like an eternity until you let out a shaky sigh. You couldn’t leave him there. Your heart was pounding in your chest, sweat perspiring on your palms, and you turned around. Each step you took, descending the long stairs, did nothing to calm your nerves. Once at the bottom of the steps again, you asked, "W-who are you?" His head was down and his dark shoulder-length hair served as a curtain to keep his face hidden from view.

 

"I think—my name is Bucky." His voice low and gravelly.

 

"Why are you here?"

 

He was silent for a moment, and you heard the chains slowly move around. The sound was a harsh reminder that what you were seeing was real. "I was brought here against my will." Just as you thought. Did your father do this?

 

"Why?"

 

"You... you don't know?" His head lifted enough for his eyes to lock onto yours. His blue irises, watching you through his lashes, trapping your gaze.

 

"Know what?" What was he talking about? Why would your father want this man in the basement? Your father may have been a closed off man but he was no murderer. He was an accomplished man. The best, you were told. A man of science. He had done marvelous things with his research. He helped people. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

But then, why did your father keep this man locked in the basement? And probably for years?

 

The man's voice brought you out of your inner turmoil. "I thought you were one of  _ them _ . No one’s been down here in days. I thought you were here to run more tests. Who are  _ you _ ?" 

 

One of them? How many people had your father brought down here, and for what purpose?

 

"You didn't answer my question." You had no idea why but you stepped forward, the man’s face coming into full view as you stared up at him. He looked away so quickly, the movement stopped your advances. Maybe he didn’t want you so close. You stopped a foot away from him. Now that you weren't scared shitless, you could take in his appearance. Yes, he was close to your age, maybe just a few years older. He had black, thick, shoulder-length hair that rested at the nape of his neck, hauntingly bright blue eyes, a firm mouth, a jaw that looked stubborn and perfectly chiseled onto his square face. He was tall, handsome, and his body was firm. He wore nothing but pants, exposing his chest, and he was marvelous. Flawless skin stretched over many contours and dips of muscle. Your eyes traveled to his arms and you were terrified once again. But not of him.  _ For  _ him _. _

 

His left arm was not that of a human’s arm. His left arm, up to his shoulder was metal. Some kind of prosthetic? Did your father do this too? You were horrified at the thought of anyone doing this to a human being, even more so that your own father did this. 

 

“Who did this to you?” your voice was nothing but a whisper. “Was it...?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

 

"I—I  can’t remember. I 'm...just different." It was simple, but not enough.

 

"Different how?"

 

"I answered yours, now you answer mine." His brows narrowed just a little. His eyes defiant and locked with yours. For a brief moment, you felt like you saw a glimpse of the man he used to be. He was trying to figure you out. He wanted to know if you were the good guy or the bad guy.

 

"I'm Y/n Y/l/n."

 

You watched Bucky’s brows narrow further. "You're related to  _ him _ ?" Another growl erupted from his chest, it was animalistic and frightening. You took a step back. "You're  _ his _ daughter. You're in on this, aren't you? You're trying to trick me."

 

"I don’t know what you're talking about. I swear." The vehement shake of your head had him give you a dark and accusatory look as he stared into your eyes. You open your mouth and close it again, unsure of what to ask next and how to help. "Tell me how you're different." You couldn’t help yourself.

 

"Ask  _ him _ ." 

 

"My father's dead." Bucky blinked blankly at you but his frown didn’t leave his face. "And with him what he did to you." You weren’t going to continue whatever it is your father did. You needed him to know that.

 

"What he did to me can’t die. Your father is among the cruelest men I’ve ever met. The things he did to me were torturous. Half of which I can’t remember. He  _ experimented  _ on me."

 

"No, he—my father wasn't like that." Even you felt your words were weak.

 

Bucky laughed humorlessly then shook his arms, the chains vibrating against the floor. "Not _like_ _that?_ He wouldn't chain someone in his basement? He wouldn't stick them with needles, starve them, or experiment on them? Why don't you look for yourself." His head turned, and you followed his gaze. You saw a smaller room in the corner you hadn't noticed before. Heading there you could see an old desk and a single folder lay on it. You looked back at Bucky, his gaze hard and prodding. He wanted you to look. The proof was there.

 

Tentatively, you picked up the folder and read it. What you found was beyond anything you could have ever imagined. 

 

Bucky was the  _ Winter Soldier _ . 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find out what happened to Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry this is late. I'm struggling to end this story. I really want to add a plot to it but I just don't have that kind of dedication. Let me know how y'all think I should end this!!

Bucky was the  _ Winter Soldier _ . 

 

You didn’t recognize him without his gear or his mask. 

 

You had heard of him, what he can do. It was all over the news weeks ago. He  was a wanted man. 

 

Horrified, you continued to read.

 

His mind was being erased constantly. He was under someone’s control and would do anything required of him, including murder.

 

He was being held here against his will and he was subjected to torture many times for disobedience. He has been frozen every few years when his services weren’t required.

 

That made you pause.

 

Just how long has this man— _ Buck _ y—been a prisoner? You continued, tears threatening to fall.

 

Bucky was born on March 10, 1917.

 

He has been enduring torture for  _ years _ .

 

Someone started this years ago and your father continued the monstrous legacy.

 

You knew your father had been a distant, different man, but you hadn't expected something like this out of him. Who was he  _ truly _ ?. You felt sick and you couldn’t keep reading but you felt compelled to do so. This was Bucky’s life. He was real and what he was put through was real. Knowing this, you forced yourself to keep reading, but you still could only skim.

  
  


**_Prisoner #56898_ **

 

**_Entry 1: Subject appears to be showing signs of regaining memories. Disobeys when agitated._ **

 

**_Entry 4: Three days without food as punishment, subject begins to show signs of memory loss. Trembles, muscle spasms, anger. Electrocuted subject today, he still refused obedience._ **

 

**_Entry 9: Subject heals rapidly. Three hours for bruises to dissipate, six for large lacerations._ **

 

**_Entry 22: Tested reaction to the photo. Evident recognition. Demands to know where the man in the photo is. Refuses to follow orders even after the words are spoken. Will try again in one week._ **

 

**_Entry 35 : Subject still refuses to obey. Hasn’t been fed. Appears to be going through painful muscle spasms. Must be the electrocution. Spoke the words again. No response._ **

 

**_Entry  62: Subject’s resolve grows weak. Subject was beaten. Didn’t have to electrocute. Responded to the words today._ **

**_Entry 75._ ** **_Entry 114. Entry 498. Entry 1091._ **

 

You couldn't read anymore. You felt repulsed by what your father had helped do to this man. Your father was a _monster_. "This is insane." You whispered. Bucky nonetheless heard you.

 

"But true." He said behind you, his chains not allowing him to be near the door frame.

 

"But...he experimented on you. What for? That isn't—logical."

 

"He was keeping me programmed for  _ them _ ."

 

You looked at Bucky. He didn't look anything like the Winter Soldier. He looked nothing more than a broken man. He didn’t look like a man who had murdered anyone. The notes said he obeyed with words. "How does it—?" How does it what? Was this even real? 

 

You were frightened again. Bucky was the man the world was hunting down. Even the  _ Avengers _ wanted him found. You briefly questioned Bucky’s sanity(and your own for that matter). You highly doubted he was delusional. Everything he said was true. You had read those notes and they were written in your father’s handwriting. You were sure it was real. It had to be, otherwise why the hell was he chained up and kept hidden in a basement? "Specific words are spoken in Russian and they activate the assassin in me. Over the past several decades, I would...eliminate anyone who posed a threat to HYDRA. I would obey their commands without thought.” His hair was hiding his face again. Maybe he was ashamed. You weren’t sure.

 

You sat in the chair that accompanied the desk, having no faith in your legs and feet. You didn’t know what you thought you would find in this basement today but you weren’t ready for any of this. All these years, you’d been told not to enter this room, and now you knew why. Your father had a dark secret that could have gotten him killed or locked up. A secret he was doing horrible things to. A secret where he worked with murderers. "I—I'm _so_ sorry." You said lamely, voice shaky. Hell,  _ you _ were shaking. It was _too_ much.

 

Bucky looked taken back by your apology. "You didn’t know."

 

You ignored him and began searching the desk for something, anything that could tell you how to free this man. "There has to be a key."

 

"There's no key." Bucky sighed and you glanced at him. "These chains are operated by a machine. It's password activated." He pointed to a small box placed against the wall away from him. You felt your heart drop. How were you supposed to help him now? "If your father’s dead, I'm dead."

 

"No. Don’t say that. I don’t believe that. I'm going to help you. I'll get you out of here. One way or another." You shook your head, refusing to believe that he would die in this house, under this roof.

  
  


"Well, you could start with feeding me. I'm starved." You wanted to smile at his attempt to lighten the mood but you were genuinely curious.

 

"Do you even need to eat?"

 

"Of course. I’m still human, Y/n." It was the first time he'd said your name, but something about how it sounded off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, one that wasn't unpleasant. Intent on ignoring that feeling, you just nodded in response and headed upstairs. You were gone for about an hour, making many different things. You didn’t know what he liked but you figured meat was good. He would need it for strength anyways. You filled a large container with water, figuring he was probably just as thirsty. Finally, you met him downstairs.

 

Bucky was lying on the small mattress, staring at the ceiling. When he saw you, he sat up quickly and eyed the large plate with obvious hunger. Now you felt bad for being gone so long. He stood and walked closer, his eyes not leaving the food until he was within reaching distance. You had expected him to rip it from your hands and devour it. Instead, he finally looked up at you and smiled. "It smells delicious. Thank you." He took it from you gently and made his way back to the mattress, chains trailing behind him.

 

Even as starved as he probably was, he took his time eating, savoring it all. Almost as if he would never eat again. This was a man that was hard to break. If it wasn't obvious from your asshole father's “research” notes, it was now. Bucky hadn't let torture or starvation turn him into what your father or  _ they _ wanted. You didn’t know who  _ they _ were but you just knew this wasn’t an appropriate time to ask Bucky. You have time. He’d tell you when he was ready. He’d tell you about the monsters that did this to him for years. You watched admirably as he acted like he'd eaten three meals a day. Then he shocked you even further. "I‘m sorry, I forgot to offer. Do you want some?"

 

You shook your head. "It's all yours." After he finished eating and drinking, his eyes met yours with deep appreciation, but you had more questions. "How long have you been kept here?"

 

" _Years_." He says, mouth full. He swallows loudly before finishing. "They moved me a lot...until they needed me."

 

"Where did they find you?" You walked closer but stopped when you were at the mattress. You didn’t know anything about the soldier, never bothered to find out more but you wanted to know _now_. Now that you knew what your father had been doing. What Bucky was subjected to. Was he a child when they began their experiments? "May I?" you ask, pointing at the mattress. He nodded and you sat next to him. His eyes took you in for a brief moment before he shut them and looked back at the nearly empty plate.

 

"I was in the army when they found me.” He began, eyes narrow as he begins telling his story. “I was captured but I don’t remember how." He seemed fidgety, uncomfortable with you sitting next to him. “It was a long time ago.” Maybe he was uncomfortable talking about how he remembered little to nothing after being brainwashed for years.

 

_ Stop bombarding him with questions, Y/n. _

 

You didn’t realize how close you were sitting next to him until his fidgety movement caused you to break you your thoughts. The realization hit you. He'd been down here for many years, alone, without any good company. Now, you were sitting next to him as an ally and not the enemy. Like all humans, he was probably craving that a connection that we all take for granted. Just the gentle touch of another human. Someone good. Someone who had no intention of hurting you.

 

Bucky’s blue eyes on you were causing your pulse to react. You remembered the way his voice had said your name earlier and that alone was pairing inappropriate pictures in your head. Pictures of his chiseled face and—

 

"What about your family?” You had to keep talking. “They must have looked for you." You needed to distract yourself.

 

His jaw clenched and he looked away. He released a small shaky breath before he began. "I can’t remember. Sometimes I get memories. Small flashes of who I was and people—“ his pause made you subconsciously place your hand on his arm, silently encouraging him to keep going. "People I think I cared about. A woman,...a man. I can’t remember their faces clearly...but I can _hear_ them.” Bucky’s eyes lifted to meet yours.

 

Out of instinct, the hand you placed on his arm took his hand. He immediately pulled away and looked at you with dark eyes. "I'm sorry." you apologize quickly, mentally berating yourself.

_ He’s too vulnerable. He’s not ready. Stop pushing him. _

 

"No. _I'm_ sorry. I’m grateful for your attempt to comfort me, but please understand... I’m not safe to be around. I’m being hunted and I—I haven’t been around a woman in years.” Bucky looked away so fast it made you think his last words were not meant to be spoken aloud. 

 

You felt your pulse quicken. Your mouth parted at his admission in silent shock. 

 

Bucky closed his eyes before he continued. “You are a  _ very _ beautiful woman, Y/n, and the last thing I want is to scare you."

 

You sat still for a moment before you bit your lip and nodded. Standing, you gave both of you space. You knew what he meant. He was fighting with himself. Of what, you weren’t sure but you wanted to find out. You had an idea but the thought didn’t scare you. And  _ that _ is the only thing that scared you. Not Bucky himself. 

 

Startled by your thoughts, you excuse yourself with promises to come back in a bit and quickly took comfort on your old couch upstairs to gather your wits.

 

You had a man in your basement that was something of horror stories, and yet he was nothing but an abused mess. He should be angry and hostile, _violent_ even. But he wasn't. He was still a sane, caring man. You had to find a way to free him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Y/n..."
> 
> Bucky’s voice brought you out of your trance and you sprinted into the next room. Bucky was now sitting on the mattress, his hands now free from the chains finally. He was staring down in disbelief before his eyes met yours. 
> 
> “I figured it out." You whispered with a smile. "You're free." You laughed, proud of yourself for making such a large impact on someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make a short series but it turns out I don't have the patience or the creativity to create a whole plotline.
> 
> Have some smut instead.

A couple of hours after sunset, and after searching for clues as to how to free Bucky, you had found nothing. No matter what you did, you came up with nothing. Your father hid his tracks well. Annoyed, you began pacing in the living room. You would not admit defeat. This wasn’t going to end like this.

 

Suddenly, a thought popped into your head and you ran back down into the basement, passed Bucky's sleeping form, and went straight to the box. You typed in your mother's name, but nothing happened. Red flashed at you, so you tried your name. Nothing. " _ Fuck _ ." You whispered in distress. You sat in the chair, staring at the box like it would show you the password.

 

"Y/n?" Bucky’s voice disturbed your thoughts, raspy and deep. You shivered again, wondering what this man was doing to you. You simply gave him a glance, trying to keep your focus on the box and not at his half-naked form.

 

"I'm here. Sorry, I woke you... I thought I knew the password for a moment there."

 

He was silent for a while. "I’m sorry I scared you." You didn’t reply, simply because you didn't know what to say. You looked down, ashamed that you couldn't find any words to reply with. He didn’t scare you. He was making you feel many things but fear was definitely not one of them.

 

The feeling of being pierced by a sharp object in your pocket broke your thoughts. Annoyed, you reached in your pocket and pulled out the long, odd key that opened the door to all of this. 

 

The  _ engraved _ key.

 

You felt your heart jump. It had to be. You quickly stood and typed the two words into the keyboard, shock filling your mind when green flashed and the sound of metal releasing. 

 

_Forgive Me._

 

That was the password. 

 

_ Not for this, father. Not for any of it. _

 

"Y/n..."

 

Bucky’s voice brought you out of your trance and you sprinted into the next room. Bucky was now sitting on the mattress, his hands now free from the chains finally. He was staring down in disbelief before his eyes met yours. 

 

“I figured it out." You whispered with a smile. "You're free." You laughed, proud of yourself for making such a large impact on someone.

 

Bucky stood and walked over to you. "Thank you." He gripped your hand, bringing it to his lips. His eyes never left yours. The contact left your skin tingling. You gulped, the familiar pull of arousal flooding your insides. However, Bucky misunderstood. He quickly dropped your hand and backed away from you.

 

You didn't give him a chance to say anything. "If you'd like, you can shower and change upstairs. You don't have to leave right away. I'm sure you'd like to rest in a real bed and eat before you leave."

 

His eyes searched yours. "I’d appreciate that."

 

Nodding, you begin heading upstairs; Bucky following close behind. Once at the door leading to the house, he hesitated a moment. "I never thought I'd get out of here. I’m in your debt, Y/n. Thank you." His praise brought a small blush to your cheeks. With sudden courage, you grasped his metal hand and gently pulled him through the doorway. Without letting go of him, you led him upstairs to the restroom. You grabbed him old clothes that belonged to your late father and handed them to Bucky, although not without some protest on his part. You insisted they were only clothes and it was better than having nothing. Finally, you gave him a towel and let him be. Before you left, Bucky thanked you once more.

 

Not knowing what to do with yourself, and not wanting to stand idly by, you decided to make more food. It had to be close to the morning so you were sure he would be hungry again. 

 

You had just set the table for both of you when Bucky finished. You could hear his heavy footsteps upstairs and then down the stairs. He appeared at the kitchen doorway when you started fixing plates for both of you. Feeling his eyes on you, you glanced at him. "You didn’t have to cook for me.” 

 

“I wanted to.”

 

Bucky silently walked into the kitchen and hovered near the table. Wanting to make him as comfortable as possible, you let him know he could sit wherever he’d like.

 

“It smells great."

 

Smiling, you thanked him. You carried the plates over and sat across from him, wanting to give him his space.

 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you. Every now and then you’d throw subtle glances Bucky’s way, wondering if you should offer more food, you’d certainly made enough. You could see he was enjoying the meal you cooked as every now and then he’d moan his approval. It wasn’t your intention to stare. You didn’t notice you were until Bucky’s eyes suddenly met yours—the realization stilled you.

 

"It's very nice to have your company."

 

Your eyes widened a bit. How could someone that had been tortured for so long still be so  _ nice _ ? He was sweet and genuine. "Likewise. I-I have to admit that it's nice having someone to eat with." You timidly tucked your hair behind your ear.

 

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. "You’re not seeing anyone?" His baffled expression made you smile. You shake your head, suddenly finding the table cloth more interesting. Did he think you had people lined up to date you? You wanted to laugh but restrained. You didn’t want Bucky to think you were making fun of him. "Why? You’re—” His pause made you look at him, curious. The intensity of his eyes faltering the humor you previously found. “... _beautiful_.” Bucky had called you that before but this time it was different. The word carried more meaning now and you couldn’t figure out why.

 

A tingling sensation rippled through you. 

 

Ignoring the familiar feeling—and the inappropriate thoughts that followed—you broke Bucky’s intense gaze.

 

“Well, after I caught my ex in bed with another woman, I sort of stopped looking.”

 

Bucky’s jaw tightened. 

 

"The guy’s a moron." This time, his hand reached for yours. You saw his eyes flicker momentarily, but he kept himself in control. "You’re better than him." He released your hand, leaving it tingling. You bit your lip and nodded. "I'm making you nervous again, aren’t I? I'm sorry."

 

"No need to apologize, Bucky." you laughed and he smiled.

 

As you continued to eat, your mind wandered and you didn’t fight it. 

 

Bucky mentioned that he hadn't been with a woman for  _ many _ years. So how would he really react when a woman, a woman like you, gave him the chance to touch her? Would he be gentle and  _ savor _ her like he does his food? Would he ravage you, completely losing himself in his own desire? You bite your lip again and welcomed the pleasant shudder of excitement that ran down your spine at the thought. Somehow, you knew that Bucky would be a great lover either way. Some part of you  _ craved  _ that interaction, a simple touch that is often taken for granted.

 

You watched him, analyzed him. His hands were large. His metal arm did nothing to deter you. You could only imagine what those hands could do to you. They could caress you and stroke you. Would he allow you a quick orgasm, or would he drag it out until you begged him? His lips were a bit pouty, and oh so inviting and desirable. You crossed your legs beneath the table as a familiar dampening made itself known between your thighs. 

 

"Y/n...”

 

The way he spoke you name, throaty and low, it was enough to break your reverie and so you glanced at him. His eyes, dark blue pools were now staring at you. "You remember how I am— _enhanced_?" You could only nod, not sure where this was going but thankful he didn’t notice anything different. "That means I can do things normal humans can’t. I’m stronger, I’m faster...I can— _ smell _ things much better than before."

 

"I—I don't understand." Your heartbeat accelerated because you were afraid you knew exactly what he meant.

 

"I can smell your neighbors cooking from here. I can smell a bonfire a block away. Do you understand?" You swallowed hard but nodded. "Tell me what I'm smelling right now, Y/n." 

 

_ God, why did he have to say my name like that?  _

 

His eyes were beckoning you to answer. He knew damn well what it was, he just wanted to hear you say it.

 

"Arousal." You whispered. You thought you heard a low growl come from Bucky, but you weren’t sure.

 

" _Y/n_..." Ignoring his piercing blue eyes, you looked down at his hands, the ones you’d been imagining on your body and noticed that his hand, the metal one, had a death grip on his fork, bending it beneath his metal palm. 

 

The man was barely holding onto that control. Would it feel amazing to have him unleash that control? Could you give up your own control and let him—a  _ stranger _ —fuck you? Could you let him bury himself inside of you? You shivered, knowing well that you could. You swallowed hard.

 

" _ Fuck _ , Y/n." He choked out.

 

You had grown wetter, and even more, aroused. He had completely destroyed the fork in his hand and was that much closer to destroying his control. You knew then that he really wouldn’t be a gentle man. He would  _ ravage _ you. The thought made a pleasant chill run down your spine.

 

His face was so close to yours and you realized it was because both of you were leaning closer to each other.

 

You breathed out a whine—desperate and small—and he groaned. You watched him stand and come to you, yanking you from your spot. Your stomach was doing summer salts. 

 

"Do you,” he pauses when he catches you lick your lips, “have  _ any  _ idea what you're doing to me? What I would do to you if I lost control? I can’t—."

 

"—Then let go." You interrupted.

 

"No!" He growled angrily, spinning you and then backing you into a wall. The action forced a gasp passed your lips and your body to involuntarily arch against the wall, and toward Bucky. He took in your reaction. Clearly, he had hoped in scaring you when he'd only caused you to want him more. "I could hurt you.” He whispered. “You know that, don’t you? I don't know my own strength anymore."

 

You heard scraping next to your head. You glanced over to see his metal hand digging into your wall. You shuddered as you could visually see his control slipping away. He was so close to taking you beneath him, and you were more than willing to let him at this point. You were  _ begging  _ him to.

 

"Bucky, I  _ want _ you." You rested a hand against his firm chest, feeling his muscles ripple beneath your touch. He was shaking. "You won't hurt me. I know you won't." You whispered delicately.

 

"But  _ I _ don't!" He quickly retracted his hand from beside you and punched your wall, making you gasp again. You let out a broken whimper. Determined, you looked up at him.

 

"You won't hurt me..." His eyes searched yours for what felt like an eternity until he groaned and crashed his lips into yours. It was harsh, greedy, and _so fucking_ _good_. You moaned into him as you gripped his hair between your fingers and pulled him even closer. He then lifted you with ease off the ground and you let your legs wrap around him. You were pressed back against the wall and that’s when you felt his erection pressing between your legs. You gasped at the size of his erection. 

 

You reached for his shirt, quickly pulling it over his head and then tracing his skin with your palms. He rippled beneath your touch and growled with need against your lips. His hips thrust against yours, forcing a heavy moan from you. " _ Fuck _ ... your noises are going to end me, Y/n." He kissed you again, nibbling your bottom lip, the same one he watched you bite earlier. He groaned again and you realized that after so long without touching another, that he wouldn't last long. But you needed him to. You needed him to carry you into oblivion. You tore your lips away from him and had him put you down. For a mere second, he looked at you confused before you fall to your knees and reached for his pants. His eyes watched you as you pulled the fabric from his erect cock. A small and deep moan of appreciation left him.

 

You removed his boxers and gazed at his throbbing cock in front of your face. Bucky rested his hands on the wall when your tiny hand took his cock in its grasp. You felt him shudder and gasp from the contact, driving you to continue. You stroked him softly at first, intent on listening to the beast side of him come out through his vocal cords. His heavy breathing encouraging you to continue, you squeezed harder before grazing your tongue along with the head. He cursed and bucked his hips forward by reflex, but you let his cock slip into your heated mouth. His groan rumbled through his entire body. You began to bob, tracing your tongue against his shaft, and his hips began to thrust. You cupped his sack in your hands and his balls tightened almost immediately. You heard the scratching again and knew exactly what it was. This man was going to destroy your house before he could ravage you. That just wouldn’t do.

 

You picked up speed, bobbing your head faster and harder and nearly gagging yourself in the process, when his cock twitched and began to swell. He was  _ so  _ close. You moaned against him, the sound sending vibrations through his throbbing erection. He gripped your head and held you still as he twitched and sent his cum down your throat. He twitched with each swallow, a new noise erupting from his throat, the sound almost strangled. " _ Up _ ." He ordered, growling at you, and you obeyed. In one swift motion, he ripped your shirt and bra without even touching your skin. Although you were in no pain, a pathetic whimper escaped your lips.

 

_ Fuck that was sexy. _

 

You shrugged out of the destroyed item and his gaze swept over you. Bucky, slightly out of breath, spoke to you, "You are so...  _ so  _ beautiful." His eyes met yours, something different in them. "You know that if this happens,” He pauses, looking as if in pain, pain from his arousal that's still pressing against you, “you’ll be _ mine _ .”

 

You thought briefly of the consequences of becoming involved in his world. Being chased-- _ hunted _ . You would need to leave your old life. No one comes back from becoming involved with the wrong side of the law. This man, Bucky, was a wanted man all over the world. Did you really want this? Want  _ him _ ?

 

"Yes,” you whispered, surprising yourself.

 

"And you’re willing to accept that? Accept  _ me _ ?"

 

" _ Yes _ ." you whimpered. You needed his touch. He smirked, and  _ good lord _ you thought you would spontaneously combust at the sight of that. You felt his metal hand grasp one of your aching breasts and your head fell back in defeat. You arched into his cold palm as he kneaded your heavy breast. The cold a pleasant feeling against your heated skin. His lips met your throat, kissing and nibbling your sweet spot. You moaned and shivered against him. You yelped in shock when you felt him bite down, no doubt piercing the skin. Nonetheless, pleasure swam through you. His free hand traveled down your stomach, ever so slightly teasing you. You felt him latch onto your pajamas before he let go of your aching breast and removed the fabric, kneeling as he did so, taking your panties with it. His mouth trailed tiny kisses on your heated skin, so close home you couldn't help but squirm. Bucky then allowed you to step out of your pajama bottoms while also prying your legs apart. 

 

Now, he was staring at up at your completely nude body, and you could see he was lost in lust, and you could only mirror his desires. He was eyeing your body like he wanted to _devour_ you.

 

Quickly, he stood up and his lips were back on yours again, taking what he had claimed before effortlessly lifting you into his arms, one arm circled around you and the other resting on your ass. Foreheads pressed to each other, he caressed your naked ass and then squeezed  _ hard _ . "I want to do so much more with you, Y/n, and I  _ will _ . But right now, I need to be inside you." His voice vibrated through his chest, and before you could say anything, his cock plunged deep into your waiting cunt. You mewed pathetically at the large intrusion, but your head lolled back in acceptance of the pleasure it gave you. He cursed harshly and began a torturously slow, yet  _ violent _ , pace. He would pull out slowly only to plow back into you, thrusting with such force that you would have gone through the wall if he hadn't been holding on to you. Your loud moans only seemed to have served to drive him further into pure need and desire. His hands were digging into your waist, nails into your back, making you arch into him. But he still wasn't letting himself lose all his control. He was buried within you and yet still somehow barely hanging on.

 

"Oh,  _ God _ ...m-more, Bucky,  _ please _ !" He crumbled at your words, pulling out fast and releasing you, turning you to face the wall so fast you had to catch yourself with palms flat against the wall. He placed a hand in the middle of your back and put pressure on it, bending you over and just as quickly he plowed home into you from behind. This time, there was nothing slow about his thrusts. It was just a mixture of pure, raw, uncontrolled desire fueling him. He guided your hips against his in swift motions, your cunt tightening quickly around his engorged cock. The side of your face was planted firmly against the wall as you sobbed." _ Yes _ ! Bucky, I'm gonna cum!" you whined and with strength you had no idea had you forced your hips back into his. His fingers dug into your hips and you were sure you felt blood emerge under his fingernails, but you were too close to release to care. "H- _ harder _ ." you bit your bottom lip as he obeyed your request. Your inner walls began to clamp tighter and tighter until they finally seized around his twitching hard cock. He groaned and stilled for a moment, reaching between your legs to pinch your throbbing clit. You jumped and moaned as he rubbed your bud, riding out your orgasm as he reveled in the feeling of you spasming around his cock. Your forehead was pressed so hard into the wall, you were sure it would start a migraine later but right now you could care less.

 

"You feel so good, Y/n.” He panted in your ear. His cold metal hand slid up your body to your neck. With a firm grip, he delicately turned your head towards him. “I want you to  _ ride me _ ." You released a tiny tired whimper at his words and he took the opportunity to kiss you hard, leaving you panting and wanting more. Abruptly, he withdrew from you completely and your legs felt like jelly as you stood there regaining your composure. He turned you gently and kissed you firmly. Feeling your way down his body, you palmed his hard-on and gave it a few strokes. He hissed at your soft motions and his kisses grew firmer- _n_ _eedier_. Finally, you grabbed his hand and led him upstairs into your bedroom. He didn't argue when you pushed him onto your bed and straddled him. He only gave you that dangerous smirk as you hovered above him and guided your core back onto his. The smirk faded and his eyes rolled and shut. He gripped your hips before lifting his head and watching your bodies connect rhythmically, seeming to be entranced by the deed itself. When his grip tightened and his low growl erupted, you knew he was close to the edge. He pulled you down with each thrust, digging deeper into you. You threw your head back and called his name. Your own climax was on the rise once again, and when he began to swell inside of you, you trembled. He cursed and called your name as your walls milked his following orgasm. You continued to shake above him as your orgasms died down.

 

Exhausted, you flopped on top of him.

 

Bucky tenderly palmed your cheek and placed a small kiss on your lips.

 

Then, with his fingers, he gently combed your messy hair out your face.

 

You stared at each other for what felt like hours. You were both taking in what had just happened between both of you, wanting to see if the other regretted the action at all. Bucky's eyes scoured your body and landed on your hips. His eyes frowned and he traced scratch marks on your hips. "I hurt you."

 

You giggled. It was all you could do. You laughed and separated your bodies. "No, Bucky, you didn't. You've... _pleased_ me beyond words...this," you pointed to the scratches, "only added to it."

 

He leaned in and kissed you softly again. You melted and felt your heart skip a beat at the gentleness he presented. "I was afraid I'd actually hurt you, but I couldn't stop."

 

Wanting to comfort him, you palmed his jaw as your thumb caressed his plump bottom lip. "I didn't want you to stop. Not for a single second." He smiled and tucked some more of your loose hair behind your ear. He pulled you to him and you both stayed content for the night, finally slipping into probably the best sleep you'd had, and the most comfortable he's had in a long time.


End file.
